


They Don't Know About Us

by fetusstyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Good and Evil, Happy Ending, M/M, Prince Louis, Princes & Princesses, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fetusstyles/pseuds/fetusstyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince!Louis/Servant!Harry AU with EvilPrincess!Eleanor and Princess!Tomlinson Sisters. Pretty basic disney-esque story with a happy ending. Very fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Know About Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I figured I'd post this little oneshot because why not?? Uh, no beta, so, sorry for any grammatical errors! I totally didn't write this for my English class last year. Definitely did not. Kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3

                Louis rolled over, splaying out his limbs over the cornflower blue, silk sheets that covered his lavish four-poster bed. He thought once he turned eighteen, he’d at least be able to choose the color of his own sheets. But, no, in the words of Louis’s mum, choosing his bedding wasn’t ‘something a _prince_ should be worried with’.  He groaned, ignoring the thoughts of what a prince _should_ be worried with, opting for pouting about colors instead. Blue was just… dreary and, quite frankly, the color always managed to affect Louis’s mood in the worst way. Though, as of lately, Louis’s mood seemed permanently sour. His mum had chalked it up to nerves about the inevitable crowning ceremony, due to take place before his upcoming nineteenth birthday. Being the king’s only son, Louis was fully expected to take over the kingdom after his father and Louis had known this his whole life, so he wasn’t any more nervous now than he had been at 7 years old. His eldest younger sister, Lottie, wasn’t as oblivious as his mother though. Louis and Lottie had always been close. Seeing as they were the royal children, they'd only had each other to play with growing up. And, up until Louis was 4, he’d been the only child in the castle, so he welcomed his sister as his first playmate. But, as time passed, they’d grown apart. Louis had grown older and Lottie, more mature at 14 than he at 18, no longer found her older brother’s pranks as entertaining as she once had. But, of course, when Louis abruptly stopped wreaking havoc in the kitchens and flustering the servants roughly four weeks ago, Lottie had noticed.   


******

“Lou, is everything quite alright? It seems you've forgotten you're meant to be trying to disgrace the family name.” Lottie teased, only to be answered by a deep sigh from somewhere within the astounding mound of clothes piled upon Louis's bed. She began sorting through the bright-colored tights and puff-sleeved shirts until she spied a head of beautifully combed honey-brown hair.   
                “You really should straighten this up, you know, Lady Eleanor will be calling shortly...are you naked?! Honestly, Louis, where are your manners? I'm a lady!” She huffed, throwing a pair of red tights in Louis's direction.   
                “A lady? You're no more than a babe! Besides, it's not as if I gave you permission to enter my chambers. And, I'm not getting dressed. I do not wish to see Eleanor today.” Louis stated, matter-of-factually. Lady Eleanor, heiress to the Scottish throne, had grown to be quite a pain in Louis's backside. His mum wanted him to spend every waking moment with her after his father had arranged for them to be wed so, he had been. It truly wouldn't have been so bad if she weren't so snobbish. But she was, and so it was.   
                “Brother, I know you aren't fond of her, but she is your betrothed, so, you'd better start pretending you are. I mean, she can't possibly be _too_ horrid. Georgia seems to enjoy her company.”  
                Louis scoffed, “Well, then perhaps _Georgia_ should marry her!” He shook his head, a small smile upon his lips. Georgia was yet another one of his sisters and even more of a princess than Lottie.   
                Lottie's eyes widened comically. “You are impossible, Louis! Get dressed already, you can't avoid her forever.” She nodded smartly, dusted off her lovely green gown and pranced to Louis's chamber door. “I'll have the cook make your usual breakfast, okay? It'll be up in a bit.” Ruefully shaking her head, she proceeded down the stairwell.  
                Louis groaned, kicking his way out of the mess of attire that was accumulated around him. He smirked, grabbing a particularly nasty-colored pair of yellow tights; perhaps, if he wore them Eleanor would deem him unfit to marry. Chuckling to himself, he began to pull on the horrendous bottoms as he heard a light tapping at his door.  
                “Erm, Master Louis? I've brought your breakfast, uh, eggs Benedict, toast and a cuppa tea?” A slightly raspy voice called from outside his chamber. It didn't sound like the cook. No, the voice was much too young to belong to the middle-aged man who usually brought up his breakfast. Louis approached the door warily with his eyebrows kneaded together in concentration, trying to think of who might be on the other side. He exhaled loudly, deciding that a cup of tea from a stranger was better than none at all and opened the door. He was greeted with a small smile from the man in front of him. No, not man at all, a boy. A boy near Louis's own age, he guessed. Louis had never seen the boy before him in his life, not that he saw many people, but he wouldn’t have forgotten a face like the one that was now staring at him questioningly.  
                “This is the prince's room, innit? I mean, you're him, right? Prince Louis?” the boy stammered, nervously. He'd been given one job; take the Prince his breakfast, and now he was somehow managing to screw even that up.   
                Louis laughed at the young lad's obvious distress. “As it just so happens, this is the prince's room and I am, he, Prince Louis. Well, just Louis, actually.” He eagerly stuck his hand out to the boy, trying to make friends with the boy.  
                The boy bent to kiss the Prince's hand, as he'd seen his sister do to the king. His sister was a handmaiden in the castle, a favorite of the king and partly the reason he was even within ten feet of Prince Louis right now. She had arranged for him to take an apprenticeship with the royal chef so they could spend more time together. Until now, he'd only seen his sister once a month, if he was lucky.  She had moved to the castle as adolescent, leaving him behind with their mother until now. Now, here he was, kissing the hand of a prince.   
                Louis raised an eyebrow at the curly-haired lad, “What _are_ you doing, pray tell?” Blushing, the boy swallowed.   
                “Well, um, I was, um...being respectful? I dunno, I thought I was supposed to. I am a servant, after all.” The boy shrugged, eying the floor as he scuffed his booted feet. Louis frowned slightly, a servant? Well, he guessed that would make sense as to why he was serving Louis's breakfast, but he was still disappointed. Louis sighed, he should have known better than to think he might actually have found a friend in this dull place.   
                “Well, servant, what is your name? Oh, and do come in, my breakfast is probably cold now, no matter though.” He tutted, opening the door further and ushering the unnamed boy inside his chamber.   
                “My name's Harry, Your Highness. I've taken on an apprenticeship with your cook, Simon, and uh, I made your breakfast this morning so I apologize if it doesn't suit you.” Harry quirked his mouth to the side, worriedly. He truly hoped the prince liked his cooking, he really didn't want to have to leave the castle so soon. Louis nodded at the boy, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of his chambers, looking ready to bolt at the first affirmative word. He blinked rapidly, deciding it wouldn't hurt for Harry to stay for breakfast. Taking a bite of eggs off the platter before him, Louis smiled at Harry.  
                “Harry, is it then? Well, Harry, if you fancy, you should stay for a bloody delicious breakfast.”

******

                Back in his bed, four weeks after his first meeting with the curly-haired lad, Louis lie in his awfully-colored blue sheets, mind swimming with thoughts of what adventures he and Harry might have that day. Since the day Harry had served him breakfast and Louis had invited him to stay, they'd become extremely close friends. Louis's only solace was spending time with Harry. Harry kept Louis sane through Eleanor's planning of their upcoming nuptials, all the while he stayed silent in his disappoint that he wouldn't even be allow to attend the royal wedding. Well, not as a guest, at least. He would, of course, be catering the reception with the head chef, Simon, and some other kitchen servers. Harry knew it wasn't Louis's decision, but it still stung when Louis had told him.

******

                “Harry, do you think you could somehow poison Eleanor's tea and get away with it?” Louis grinned, toying with a fallen bloom from one of the orchid bushes lining the far wall of the castle. He and Harry always had to meet in secret and the wild, unkempt garden near the west wall was their favorite place.   
                Harry made a face, plucking a gooseberry from one of the countless vines hanging on the wall. “I refuse to ruin a good cup of tea over your obnoxious fiance, even if it _were_ possible.”   
                The sweet taste of the berry filled his mouth, staining his lips dark red. Louis huffed, kicking at the wall. This was extremely unfair, all of it, his entire life. Especially this wedding. He'd hated the idea of marrying Princess Eleanor from the beginning, but now that he'd received the final verdict on whether or not Harry could attend, he despised even hearing mention of the upcoming event. He'd asked Eleanor if he could have someone of the peasant class at the wedding, to which she replied, 'Good heavens, Louis, have you lost your sense? I am a princess and you are a prince. We shan't have common street trash at our wedding. You should be happy I'm letting that awful handmaiden, Gemma, even carry my train!' Honestly, Louis was losing his patience with her. And, he quite liked Gemma, the handmaiden.   
                “Hazza, we have to talk about the wedding...” Louis trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry frowned, they always talked of the wedding and he'd grown tired of hearing about it. Even his sister had begun to chatter about. His sister, Gemma, would be carrying the Princess's train in the ceremony and she was utterly thrilled. Though he was happy for her, Harry was content with just being there to support Louis even if he didn't really approve of the bride.   
                “Hm? What about the wedding now? Has Her Highness gone and made Phoebe and Daisy wear gowns made of gold and silver?” Harry chuckled, imagining Louis's youngest sisters, the twins, ruining any and all things expensive. They were five years old and had a favorite pastime of sneaking down to the kitchen and forcing Harry into playing dress up on his breaks.   
                “Er, not exactly. Harry, you cannot come to the wedding. You are not to be invited. Gemma shall be the only non-royal there. Of course, you shall attend the reception with Simon still, if you please.” Louis bit his lip, wringing his hands. He fell against the wall and slid his back down the overgrown bricks, his bottom landing on the lush grass-covered ground. He looked up at Harry, his wide-childlike green eyes shined with the tears he didn't dare let fall. Louis was quick to notice the misty look in Harry's eyes. He exhaled, shakily, “I'm so sorry, Harry, you kno-”  
                “It's fine, no, really, I understand. I don't even know why I'm upset.” Harry smiled weakly, wiping at his eyes. He honestly didn't know why he _was_ so upset, he knew that Louis had no control over who attended the wedding. _Yes, but he had control over who he married._

******

                Louis rolled over and looked out the window at the glaring sun; it must have been near midday. He wondered why no one had summoned him to be awakened earlier; there was so much to be done, according to Eleanor, with the wedding only a week away. Perhaps it was all a dream, this whole wedding nonsense, and now he was finally waking up. He smiled at the thought, but then quickly shoved it away. For if this was all a dream, he would have never met Harry. He would have never spent hours upon hours exploring the hidden passages of the castle with him, would have never tasted the gooseberries of the west wall, would have never experienced true love.

******

                It was two weeks til the wedding and Eleanor had sent Louis away from his own bedroom because she was using it as a fitting room to have her wedding gown properly sized. Apparently, Louis's mirrors were 'true to her figure'. Regardless, it wasn't as if he'd wished to stay with her anyways. He'd grown to hate Eleanor more and more the closer the wedding became and avoided her as much as possible. He shook his head, feeling lighter already as he made his way down to the kitchen through a servants' passage. How he'd never discovered any of the secrets of the castle in his entire eighteen years that Harry had discovered in a mere two weeks, he did not know. Louis quickly ducked as the ceiling of the passage lowered rapidly, he was nearly there. He could hear the banging of pots and pans and the unmistakable shouts of the cook, Simon, before he could see the light of the wine cellar. Louis quickly opened the trapdoor into the cellar and hoisted himself through to the small outer room.  Dusting himself off, he moved to the door and listened for Simon's retreating footfalls before he eased the old oak door open and tackled an unsuspecting Harry from behind.               
                “Surprise, Hazza!” Louis chuckled, climbing off the younger boy's back. Harry glowered at him, which would have been much more menacing had he not been covered in flour.   
                “Louis, have I not told you to stay out of my kitchen when I'm cooking? I do believe I have.” Harry pursed his lips, eying the bowl full of cracked eggs on the counter.  
                “Your kitchen? Pleas- Oh, you wouldn't dare...I'm the princ-!” Louis's rant was cut short by loud sound of an empty mixing bowl hitting the floor as yellow slime slid down the front of Louis's striped shirt and red tights.   
                “Oh, I would dare, prin _cess_.” Harry barked, laughing at the distraught look upon the older boy's face. Louis wasn't truly upset. Okay, maybe he was a little upset. Or, a lot.   
                “Harry! YOU ARE DISGUSTING! UGH!” He raged, kicking the bowl across the kitchen as he stomped back towards the wine cellar. Louis groaned, shucking the egg whites off his shoulders, his hair would be horrid for days now. Harry frowned, quickly following the golden-haired boy back to the cellar.   
                “Lou, it was only a joke! I'm sorry!” He called after him, descending into the servants' passage. Louis stopped, allowing the curly-haired boy to catch up to him.   
                “It's fine, just, it's going to ruin my hair.” Louis pouted as Harry cackled. Louis was always so worried about his appearance, especially his hair. Not that he needed to be, he always looked dashing,   
                “...even covered in eggs.” Harry finished, under his breath, blushing. Louis turned, looking into the large emerald orbs that were Harry's eyes.   
                “What did you say?” Louis held a baited breath, dying to know what Harry had been thinking. Harry was so mysterious to Louis. Always so...so quiet, so pensive,   
                “...so beautiful.” Louis muttered, wide-eyed, looking at Harry. Really looking, for the first time. Harry was beautiful, and it had taken Louis until now to see it. His luscious chocolate-brown curls framed his face perfectly, accenting the angles hidden beneath what little remained of his boyish curves. His eyes, they were the greenest of greens that Louis had ever beheld and they were deeper than the oceans, whose waves he felt in his stomach whenever Harry spoke.   
                “Harry, I...” Louis exhaled, trying to clear his head. His mind was spinning, what _was_ he thinking? He was thinking of gooseberries and the stains they leave on Harry's mouth every time they’d sneak away to the west wall, he was thinking of eggs Benedict, toast and a cup of tea that changed his life...he was thinking of Harry.  
                Harry inhaled sharply, staring at the boy in front of him, seeing him finally. Where most people saw a prince, a figurehead, Harry just saw an amazing blue-eyed boy. No, not a boy; a man. A man with a strong jawline and a honey-brown fringe that accented his high cheekbones beautifully, with eyes that put precious sapphires to shame and with a heart that Harry wished to hold.   
                “I love you.” Harry whispered, his confession being echoed back him, simultaneously, from the lips of a prince.

******

                Louis was once again ripped from his reverie by a light tapping on his door. Pulling his quilt up under his arms, he called for whoever it was to enter.   
                “DO YOU REALIZE HOW LATE IT IS? Honestly, have you no respect for your fiancé’s wishes? The seamstress has been in the parlour for ages now, waiting on _you_ , Louis!” Eleanor stomped into the room, her hair blown astray in several different directions, and her pale pink gown falling off one shoulder. Louis growled, he really was not in the mood for the princess's antics first thing after he'd woke.   
                “Do _you_ realize that I, honestly, do not care? I am so tired of your uptight ways and rude manner of speaking. I don't _care_ if the seamtress has been in the parlour since dawn, Eleanor!” Louis fumed, throwing his hands up in the air. This was the first time he'd outright told her how he was feeling and he was glad he had. He didn't care if she called off wedding _and_ his parents disowned him; he was sick of it all.   
                Eleanor smirked, “It'll take more than pitching a tantrum to send me back to Scotland, Louis. You think I don't know you hate me? I've known since the first day we met that we would never get on well. The only thing keeping me from packing my things and returning home is the promise of wealth from marrying you. See, here's the thing, 'Lou';” She pouted out her bottom lip and widened her eyes mockingly, “I know all about your little friend. Harry, isn’t it? The kitchen servant with the moronic, harlot-of-a-handmaiden for a sister. Yes, I know about all of it. And, guess what? I don't care, but you should. See, your parents are under the impression that my father is still as rich as he once was, but father is a far cry from rich. He arranged a marriage between you and me so that his debt would be settled from the dowry I will receive upon the day we're to be wed.” Eleanor purred, her eyes gleaming with sadistic joy.   
                Louis laughed, eyeing the brown-haired princess suspiciously. “Now that you've told me all of this, you can't possibly expect me to still marry you, can you? Only a fool would walk into such a trap and I am no fool!” He stated, crossing his arms across his bare chest. He and Harry had been right about her all along, she was pure _evil_.   
                “Oh, I agree, you are no fool, Louis. I mean, only a _fool_ would choose not to marry me and cause his dearest friend's death, right? And, I know you wouldn't do that.” Eleanor cackled at Louis's alarmed expression. “Don't worry, your little kitchen boy is safe...for now. One word to anyone about any of this and little Harry might not return from a trip to the market one day, or perhaps he might slice his own wrists while preparing your dinner. You just keep that in mind, my love.” Eleanor smiled sweetly, turning on her heel and retreating out of Louis's room just as he started screaming.   


******

                “Fliss, do you mind braiding my hair? Louis may not care about my appearance, but I do.” Lottie huffed, sitting down on the stool and allowing her sister access to her long blonde hair. Félicité was already fitted into her lovely blue gown for the ceremony, with her auburn hair down in extravagant curls. Lottie frowned as the red-haired girl pulled her hair back and started to work. She'd been worried about wedding since the beginning, but as the date drew nearer Lottie began to feel as if something wasn't right. Louis had been acting even more strangely this past week; he had not once complained about Eleanor, he'd gone to all his fittings without a fight, but other than wedding errands, Louis stayed in his room the entire week. Perhaps it was just wedding jitters, Lottie mused, nodding her head slightly. Yes, that had to be the answer. _Well, Louis better get over them, today's his wedding for God's sake_ , she thought to herself. Fliss exhaled sharply,   
                “Would you stop moving your head? I cannot braid your hair if you insist on being in constant motion.” She pursed her lips, finishing her masterpiece. Lottie lifted up the hand mirror, examining her sister's handiwork. She smiled, “Perfect, Eleanor will love it.”   
                Félicité shrugged, she didn't really much care if Eleanor liked it or not. She'd grown to dislike the princess after she'd seen her kick one of the carriage horses out of spite. Félicité wondered why her brother was even marrying the girl, he didn't seem very fond of her either. Come to think of it, no one seemed to like Eleanor. Well, besides Georgia, but Georgia was always a bit odd. She sighed, she may only be thirteen, but Félicité thought she knew enough about life to know that you shouldn’t marry someone you don’t love. Félicité pursed her lips, turning to Lottie. Lottie was fourteen, which was older than she, so perhaps she might know why Louis had chosen Eleanor.   
                “Lottie, why is Lou marrying Eleanor? She's not very nice and I don't think he even likes her.” Félicité questioned, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She may have disliked the princess, but she had to admit Eleanor had a pretty good sense of fashion. Lottie tilted her head to the side and frowned.   
                “You don't think he likes her? Well, you'd be right, darling. Louis is marrying Eleanor because Mummy and Daddy want him to, and so does Eleanor's father. I guess Lou and the princess want to make Mum and Dad happy...I don't know though, Louis seems unhappy doesn't he?” Félicité nodded as Lottie paced back and forth in front of the vanity. She reached towards her younger sister, taking her hand as idea sprang into her head.   
                “Let's go find Georgia, Phoebe and Daisy, I have a plan.”

******

                Harry threw the dish towel into the sink, wiping the sweat off his brow. It was late spring and the castle's lower levels were sweltering and Harry had been on dishes duty all morning. Simon was busy preparing the main entrees for the royal wedding party which meant there were a lot of dirty dishes and only one Harry to wash them. He sighed, looking down at his hands and offering a small smile to the empty washroom when he saw how pruned they were from the water. He guessed it wasn't too bad, being stuck on dish duty; at least he didn't have to help anyone get ready for the ceremony. The ceremony at which the man he loved would be legally bound to a Scottish princess with no heart. Harry hadn’t originally disliked the princess, but over time he’d grown to hate her with a passion. Eleanor had been rude to him on many occasions; tripping him while he was serving dinner or loudly commenting on how terrible the food tasted. Not to mention the terrible things said about his sister, Gemma. Harry closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. There wasn't anything he could do to save Louis from Eleanor, only Louis had the power to stand up to his parents and Harry had to accept that obviously wasn't what Louis wanted. Obviously, _he_ wasn't what Louis wanted. He'd been avoiding Harry the past week, even refusing to have his breakfast served by him. Harry rubbed his neck and hoisted himself up onto the counter top as he heard the sound of little feet scurrying through the servants' passage in the wall behind him. He grinned to himself, knowing his little visitors would be none other than Phoebe and Daisy, Louis's twin sisters that he'd grown to love. A small brick in the wall turned and a hidden door was pushed open and out tumbled the expected two blonde-haired five year olds plus two older girls, a blonde that was obviously of some relation to the twins and a red-haired girl that resembled Louis. Harry raised an eyebrow.  
                “Bee and Daisy, my favorite little princesses! Who've you brought with you this time? Are they princesses too?” Harry faked awe as he winked at the older girls. The blonde one nodded and stepped towards him.   
                “You're Harry, right? Gemma's brother? I'm Princess Lottie and that is Princess Félicité,” she motioned to the redhead who smiled. Harry smiled back as Lottie continued. “we're Louis's sisters and we need your help.” Harry frowned, _how did they know to find him_ , he wondered.   
                “Hello, yes, er, I'm Harry. Did the twins tell you where to find me? And, I don't know the prince. And, I probably can't help you.” He eyed Lottie speculatively, she seemed distraught. Lottie narrowed her eyes.  
                “Listen, I know you know my brother. I know _everything_.” She emphasized, making sure the curly-haired lad wasted no time spinning lies. “Fliss, take the girls back upstairs. We'll be up shortly.” Félicité nodded, grabbing the hand of Phoebe in one of her own and the hand of Daisy in the other. As soon as the hidden door was once again concealed, Lottie rounded on Harry. She shoved his back against the sink.  
                “Okay, that awful excuse for a princess has taken my sister prisoner because heard the plans Eleanor has for Louis...and you. She's told Lou that if he doesn't marry her, she'll kill you. And, now she's got Georgia tied up in the dungeon because she knows. Daisy managed to find her and get us a message, but we can't get her out alone. We need you, Harry. Louis needs you. As soon as we get Georgia free, we'll run to the chapel and save Louis from marrying the wretch. Please.” Lottie begged, tugging on Harry's apron with tears gleaming in her familiarly blue eyes. Harry nodded.   
                “Let's go.”

******

                Eleanor stood in one of the inner rooms of the chapel, admiring her thin figure in the mirror. She smiled ruefully to herself; everything was going according to plan. Louis would say his vows and then all the gold, all the silver would be hers. She scowled, thinking of the insolent little girl that almost ruined everything. “Georgia.” She muttered, disgusted with her name even. Not to worry, she'd taken care of her, locked her away in the dungeon. Eleanor laughed, turning around to call that lousy excuse for a handmaiden, Gemma.   
                “Gemma. Servant girl, get in here!” She stomped her foot, the sound echoing off the walls of the small room woke the sleeping girl in the next room. Gemma quickly rubbed her eyes and ran to attend to the princess. She stumbled into the room where Eleanor stood, dressed icily in white lace.   
                “Pardon, Your Highness, I was just in th-” Eleanor cut off the flow of Gemma's speech with a hard slap to the face.   
                “You should be here when I call, no excuses, do you understand me, girl?” She spat at the small brown-haired girl in front of her. Gemma nodded, bowing to the princess. Eleanor scoffed.  
                “Useless. I'm wasting my breath on you. Go now and make sure that idiotic girl, Georgia, hasn't escaped.” She waved the servant away. Gemma barely made it out of the chapel before she burst into tears. As she clutched her face, she ran towards the dungeon. She ran past the kitchen staff preparing the celebratory meal only slightly looking for her brother. He was meant to be in the washroom, safe and sound. Gemma pushed forward, throwing open the door to the dungeon and plowing straight into a blonde-haired girl. She paused, she knew that hair.  
                “Lottie, what are you...Harry?!” Gemma nearly screeched as she saw a headful of familiar chocolate curls, grabbing her brother by the shoulders. She looked him over and in seeing no harm she looked past him to see three other girls she all recognized; Félicité, Phoebe and Daisy. They were all her girls; she had cared for them all in one way or another. “What are you lot doing down here?” Gemma inquired, hand on her hip.  
                “We're saving my sister, Gemma. Come to think of it, we could use your help.” Lottie pseudo-asked. Gemma frowned, tilting her head.   
                “Why is your sister down he-! Oh! Georgia, oh my, I should have known. The Georgia that the princess sent me to see about is _Georgia_.” Gemma shook her head. “I'm sorry; I would've come sooner if I'd known. Come on, you all, let's go rescue a princess.”

******

                Louis paced back and forth at the altar. All the guests were seated and the wedding was about to begin but his sisters were nowhere to be found. Neither was Gemma, Harry's sister. Louis, wringing his hands, looked out at the full pews of the chapel and groaned. His parents were sitting in the front row in their entire royal garb, surrounded by a small army. Louis scoffed; he was the one that needed protection. Protection from the evil he was about to marry. The harp player began the wedding march and Louis stopped pacing. The song the harpist was playing sounded more like a funeral dirge than a wedding march, but Louis guessed that was appropriate. He stood tall as the oak doors opened to reveal the bride. Eleanor looked stunning, Louis couldn't deny that. Her dress was a beautifully woven mix of lace and silk with diamonds threaded throughout. Louis was unhappy to find that the train of the dress was being carried by someone other than Gemma. Eleanor made her way down the aisle, smiling sweetly at the well-to-do guests. It made Louis sick to his stomach. He swallowed, forcing the feelings down his throat and smiled at his bride. She narrowed her eyes, but smiled right back as she came to a stop at Louis’s side.

                “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of two people, two lovers, and two countries..” The priest droned on, quoting Bible verses and making sickeningly romantic analogies. Louis sighed, following the priest's orders to repeat after him. His life was following orders, he mused. He finished the last repetition and nodded at the priest.   
                “Now, Eleanor, repeat after me; I, Eleanor, do promise to...” The priest began, reciting a similar set of vows for her to repeat. Eleanor, smiling, repeated them all as if she'd been practicing.   
                “Do you, Prince Louis of England, take Eleanor, Princess of Scotland, to be your wife?” “I do.” He muttered, eyes on the ground. “And, do you, Eleanor, take Louis to be your husband?” “I do.” She nearly sang out the little phrase. “If anyone objects to this union; speak now or forever hold your peace.”  
                The door of the sanctuary burst open and in spilled five, slightly disheveled, princesses, one battered handmaiden and one curly-haired kitchen servant.   
                “We object!” Harry cried, throwing his arms out in front of him. The guests erupted into gasps and whispers and the elder ladies broke out their fans in shock. Louis himself was shocked, but he managed to stay composed as the small band of young people made their way to the altar, Harry leading. Out of breath, Harry reached the front of the church with Lottie and her sisters on one side and Gemma on the other.  He turned to the guests, aiming his speech at the two royals on the front row.  
                “We object the marriage of Louis and Eleanor for multiple reasons, some of which are personal and others that should be brought to light. The first is Eleanor's father's dastardly plan to steal the wealth of England to settle his debt. He sent Eleanor here so that the king would arrange marriage and then Eleanor would send her dowry and more back to Scotland. The Scottish kingdom is poor and you have been fooled by this princess's wealthy appearance. All these things I know because your daughter, King Mark, told me. She overheard Eleanor speaking of her plans to a Scottish spy, who has since fled, and Eleanor caught Princess Georgia listening and had her thrown in the dungeon so that no one would find out about her plans before they could be carried out.” Harry finished, out of breath. The king rose, nodding at the guards to surround the bride.   
                “Is what this boy says true, my little turtledove?” The king spoke solemnly, beckoning Georgia forward. Her gown was ripped and her ankles were bloodied from the shackles.   
                “It is true, Papa, all of it.” She said, bursting into tears as she leaned on her father. The king held his daughter and motioned for the guards to take Eleanor away.   
                “No, King Mark! I swear, it is not true! I love Louis and he loves me, right Louis?” Eleanor protested, giving Louis a heart-stopping look. Louis blanched, looking towards the curly-haired boy he loved. He had to keep him safe. “She-”  
                “Wait, Boo! Harry forgot to tell Daddy something!” Daisy spoke, tugging on Harry's apron so that he would crouch down to hear the little girl. Harry nodded, blushing scarlet and kissing Daisy on the head.   
                “Your Highness, Eleanor has also made some sort of plans to have _me_ killed if Louis doesn't marry her. She knows Louis would try and keep me safe.” Harry lowered his eyes, stepping back beside Lottie.   
                “And, why would my son choose to protect you?” The king eyed Louis curiously, walking towards the boy with the green eyes and the dirty apron. Louis exhaled, moving towards Harry and reaching for his hand.  
                “Because, I love him.”

******

                Many weeks had passed since that day and, over time, things had worked themselves out. Eleanor was made to work as a servant for Gemma for a reasonable amount of time and then was banished from the kingdom afterward. Lottie and Félicité helped to rehabilitate Georgia by keeping up the garden by the west wall. Phoebe and Daisy grew and grew into busy young princesses, but they still made time to play dress-up with their favorite brother-in-law; Harry. Oh, yes, the star-crossed lovers of our story did live happily ever after. After Louis confessed his love for Harry to his father in front of the whole kingdom, how could the king forbid it? Following Louis's confession, Harry and Gemma moved into the castle permanently. Not as servants, but as equals. Soon after moving in together, Harry and Louis were wed. And, to this wedding, no one objected.


End file.
